


Printer-Paper Hearts

by CyndaKiwi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, F/M, Murder, Nephilim, Reader Insert, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform, bullied reader, kidnap, selling your soul, sort of, will tag as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:13:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5826352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyndaKiwi/pseuds/CyndaKiwi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Originally posted to my Wattpad)</p>
<p>Your life was far from perfect, which was what led you to making a deal with a devilishly handsome Crossroads demon. Your father had taught you well, warning you of the monstrous demons that took whatever they wanted and destroyed for fun. But he was dead, and nothing would change that. But you could fix things now. </p>
<p>With just a wish, eveything would be fixed. </p>
<p>...Right?</p>
<p>(A Supernatural Reader-insert fanfiction)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Printer-Paper Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this to my Wattpad as a one shot, but I decided to bring it as a full-on series here!

You couldn't take it. Not anymore. The constant laughter, the shoves, the sideway glances and snide remarks. They were just too much for your paper heart. Each word like a hand, tearing away at all the thin layers of paper like a kid opening up a present on Christmas. They were always delighted to see your tears, happy to see your pain, and powerful when you felt powerless. It happened so frequently that you didn't know what to do anymore. You thought people grew up and changed after high school and once they started college, but you were wrong. And after each time it happened, you would always chalked those up as just another bad day. 

On each bad day you would make a paper crane, a little one out of a quarter of a post-it for something small like a few rude words thrown your way or a bad feeling, and one made out of a piece of printer-paper if it was a shove or missing the bus due to an "accident" in the hallway. Your room was so filled with printer-paper birds hung from the ceiling on strings that your room looked like a paper aviary. You had stopped keeping track of the birds you made and started trying to think positive. Be positive. So you started making paper hearts to track each good day, every compliment or friendly smile you received. It's good to start out small, you would tell yourself, that no matter how many vultures clawed at you, you wouldn't break. That your heart would keep beating, keep being. Just like the paper ones in your jar.

You promised yourself to stop looking at each paper bird as another bad thing weighing you down. To instead, look at it as another day where you survived, where you didn't bend to their will and throw away your dreams. Those birds served as a reminder that there were all those bad things in the world. But the paper hearts were proof that there was something good in the world. 

But late at night you would find yourself with blood pouring from your hands. Paper cuts covered your shaking fingertips and stained the pristine white birds you spent hours folding. You hadn't made a paper heart in weeks, maybe even months. Like the people could sense that you were giving in and decided to give up on you. Like you were already dead. 

You had taken up to wearing gloves at school to cover your bandaged fingers. Of course, they teased you for that too. You stopped wearing skinny jeans and t-shirts and took up sweaters and baggy dark pants. Your once (h/c) hair was now dull and lifeless and your eyes looked so empty, only further highlighted by your dark bags and hollow cheeks. Of course, your mom was worried. But you had started putting on makeup around her and started forcing yourself to smile and tug down your shirts so she couldn't see your skinny frame. She had stopped asking questions and went on with life as per usual. She had blamed your sudden "pit of depression" on the loss of your father a few years ago and said it was a mistake for her to ever get involved with a hunter. And you noticed how she never thought to make the exception of you being the only thing she was happy to come out of her relationship with Dad.

And now, here you sat, writing away in your journal of each and every thing that's been happening to you. It was midnight, and you had a very small and shabby looking box laying beside your backpack. There was no turning back, you knew that. But you weren't scared, or nervous. You didn't care how heavy the price was, you were willing to even pay for it with your own life. You had to do this, and there was no going back. You hoped that Dad's journals were right and the box you held onto tightly would really work.

"No going back now, I suppose." You muttered to yourself as you climbed out your bedroom window and slowly descended from the roof to the back yard. You climbed onto your red bicycle and rode off to find the dirt crossroads near your house. 

With each minute you pedaled harder, your heart beating faster. It would be over... After years of dealing with them, it would all be over. And not just for me, but for all of them.

You slid off your bike, setting it on the ground before walking to the center of the dirt and rock crossroad. You knelt down and hesitated. I'm doing this right, but was it the right thing to be doing? 

You shook the uncertainty from your head, telling yourself that yes, this was the only thing to do. You had reached out before only to be brushed off and shoved back. Too many times, and you couldn't bear to see it happen again to not only you but the tons of other people. But just in case the deal went south, you had your dads lucky holy water flask at the ready.

You patted the soft soil down, dusting off your hands lightly. It was buried, but now what? 

"Ah, it's a bit past your bedtime, don't you think so?" A man said from behind you with a raspy, accented voice. You took in a sharp breath before turning around to see a man a little taller than you standing a few feet away. He wore a black suit, looking very out of place in the middle of the woods with a twenty year old girl.

"I-I want to make a deal. You're a crossroads demon, right?" You asked, unsure of whether you had done the right spell.

"Oh I'm not just some crossroads demon. I'm the king of crossroad demons, love. Crowley, king of hell at your service." He said with a smirk. Your heart beat faster in your chest.

"Oh, no need to get yourself all worked up. I just decided to drop in personally instead of sending some lower level demon to take care of it." He said as he stepped closer. You instinctively stepped back, panicking when the all too familiar sensation of being cornered washed over you.

"Can we just get the deal over with? Please?" You almost begged, feeling the rough bark of a tree press to your back.

"Ah, let me guess. Your wish is to have daddy dearest back, right? So you can have the perfect family again and so your mother won't look at you like you're a mistake?" He asked, mocking you slightly.

"No. He's dead. And I don't want him back. I want a certain group of people to pay for what they did to me and all the other kids at school. I don't care whether they die or get tortured, I just want them to pay for what they did and to feel all the pain they caused to countless people." You said, fear leaving you slowly with each word you spoke. He raised an eyebrow, taking another few steps forward.

"Alright. But in return for one thing. And it's not your soul." He said, a grin working its way onto his face.

"But I don't have anything else to give!" You protested, your eyes widening.

"Trust me. It's something you'll be more than capable of doing. So, is it a deal then?" He asked politely, watching you carefully. You thought for a moment before nodding slowly. 

"Okay. Yeah, it's a deal." You said, sticking out your hand for him to shake. He smirked before grabbing your hand and moving forward so fast you didn't realize what was happening until it happened.

He was kissing you. Oh my god. 

Your eyes widened at the unfamiliar sensation. It felt like electricity was coursing through your veins and across your skin, making every nerve alive and every sense amplified. And oh my god his his lips, his smell, his touch. It was overwhelming.

So when a devilishly handsome man kissed you, you did what any normal girl would do.

You splashed him with holy water.

"Agh! Jesus Christ girl! What the hell was that for!?" He yelled at you, wiping the burning liquid off of himself.

"Well I'm sorry I panicked when you decided to kiss me without any sort of warning!" You yelled defensively, crossing your arms and tucking your flask into your back pocket.

"Well I have to kiss you in order to seal the deal! And who cares, it's probably not the first time you've kissed someone so who cares if the king of hell kisses you!" He retorted, staring at you when your face turned red.

"Oh my god you've got to be joking. You mean that a lady, such as yourself, has never even kissed someone?" He asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"I've never even had a boyfriend before, okay!?" You yelled defensively, debating on whether you should splash him again or not. 

He strode forward, stopping mere inches from you. One of his hands snaked around your waist, brushing part of your bare skin where you t-shirt had ridden up. Again, just the mere skin on skin contact felt like electricity. His other hand came up to brush your cheek lightly before gripping your chin and forcing you to look up at him. 

"Can't have you doing this again." He muttered before tossing your flask aside. Before you could react, he had moved forward and kissed you again. Your heart beat picked up its pace and oh my he tasted amazing and of course your stupid brain was frozen.

"Wouldn't mind doing that again." He muttered before pulling away. You bit your lower lip and looked at the ground, your heart rate slowing down to its normal rhythm.

"Don't do that." He growled, releasing your lower lip with his thumb. You nodded quickly, regret filling you. What would dad say when he found out his daughter made a deal with the devil over something so stupid? But it wasn't stupid, you were helping so many people that nobody else would even glance at, including yourself.

"Now go on home. I'll take care of my end of the deal. Oh, and wear something special tomorrow." He said before disappearing in a gust of wind. You sighed and hopped onto your red bike, afraid of the price you would have to pay for your wish.

\---------------

You woke up, already dreading the day and it's upcoming events. Just like normal, you'd be shoved and yelled at, and just like normal nobody would do anything about it. You sighed and yanked on your hoodie, frowning when a piece of paper fell out of the pockets.

You crouched down, seeing that it was a large, bright blue paper heart. You remember making this... It was when someone stood up for you, for the very first time.

~~~~~

Today was bad. Hell, saying that it was just "bad" was an understatement. They seemed to be worse today than they ever were. And all the teachers turned a blind eye, the bystanders hurrying along and minding their own business. You had missed the bus again and had to walk home. And of course, it had started to rain. 

"Hey! We're not done with you yet!" One of the boys yelled, making you walk faster. No no no no no. Not again. They shouldn't be following me home. Not this many times in a week.

"Hey, what did I say?!" One of them yelled as they grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to turn around and look at the group of five.

"Please don't!" You begged, closing your eyes and waiting for the first punch to land. You opened your eyes when a flutter of wings was heard and a gentle hand touched your shoulder.

You were standing behind a slightly taller man wearing what appeared to be a trench coat. 

"W-who the hell are you?" One of the boys asked, startled at his sudden appearance.

"I am Castiel. Leave now and I won't hurt you." He said, his deep raspy voice echoing in your mind. This stranger, this man you didn't even know, was helping you. You couldn't be more grateful in your life.

One of his hands was reached back in a protective gesture, and you grabbed it lightly. 

"Aww, who's this? Lil guy thinks he can stand up for his stupid whore. You're outnumbered, buddy. So I suggest you leave before you get yourself hurt." Jason, the leader of the group, said. His voice made you flinch, which only earned a laugh from his group.

Castiel's hand slid from yours and he stepped forward.

"Last chance to leave." He said, taking another step forward. Jason laughed before throwing the first punch. You looked away, not wanting to see the fight.

"What the-" Jason began, but was cut off by Castiel hitting him hard enough to knock him to the ground. The rest of the guys kept throwing punches and Castiel would dodge and hit harder than you thought he'd be able to. 

After a minutes or so the guys ran, leaving you and Castiel.

"Thank you." You breathed out, looking at Castiel. His eyes were such a bright blue...

"I'm sorry we couldn't help sooner." He replied, slightly out of breath. You were both drenched, the rain coming down harder than ever. You were practically shouting over the noise even though you were only a few feet away from each other.

"I don't understand entirely what that means, but I'm glad you came." You replied, gathering up the books you had dropped earlier. Castiel knelt down in front of you and helped, smiling lightly before pulling away when your hand accidentally touched his.

"Here. Let me walk you home." He offered, pulling out a blue umbrella. You nodded gratefully, standing under the large umbrella and walking with Castiel. 

When he stopped by your house, he gave you a little blue post it note before vanishing into thin air.

It read,

Things will get better. I promise,

And you made the biggest, brightest blue heart you could and carried it around with you to remind you that there was at least one good person in the world that cared.

~~~~~

You stuck the heart back into your pocket, smiling at the memory. The heart was almost as bright as his eyes, which was why you picked that specific color.

But you wouldn't see him again. No, you made a deal with the devil. And it's not like Castiel showed up again after that incident.

"Let's go. Can't be late for college." You muttered as you picked up your backpack. You dressed nicer than usual, going so far as to do your hair and makeup. You had a dress saved for a casual but nice occasion, but you never had anything to celebrate.

You stepped onto the school bus, finding it eerily quiet. It was almost empty, save for a few people who were usually the center of the teasing. You walked near the back of the bus and sat next to Mabel, a quiet girl who was usually picked on for her large glasses and old sweaters. You had seen her at the library after school, burying her nose in hundreds of old, dusty mythology books. You had talked to her occasionally, making sure that she was okay and whatnot.

"Hey Mabel. What's going on with all the empty seats?" You asked, having a gut feeling that you knew what (rather who) was behind the lack of people.

"I dunno. It's like all the mean people just... Vanished. Ooo, maybe it's a ghost!" She joked, making ghostly noises. You giggled and poked her side, saying "Maybe a spooky ghoul grabbed them in the night!" Which made you and Mabel laugh harder.

"Oh! I'm gonna go ask Clyde what's up with the ghost bus when we get off." You said, frowning slightly. 

When you guys arrived at the school, you realized you were early and would have to wait on the bus for a few minutes. You took this as the perfect chance to ask Clyde.

You stood up and walked to the front of the bus, gripping your (f/c) backpack tighter.

"Hi Clyde." You greeted the older man. He used to be the principal, but now he just drove your bus. 

"Hey (y/n). What can I do for ya?" He asked, turning in his seat to look at you.

"I wanted to ask why the bus was so empty." You replied, noticing his slightly surprised expression.

"I'm not too sure myself. Dozens of parents and students called in saying that they were getting rides with their friends. That's about it." He said with a shrug. You nodded before going back to your seat. Odd.

The rest of the day continued with all the classes being empty of the usual jerks and bullies. You could actually focus for once, and found that the classes were enjoyable when you weren't constantly looking over your shoulder.

"Oh! Class dismissed!" Ms Howard, the science teacher, was cut off by the bell ringing. You stood up and walked to your locker, dropping off your text books. 

"Huh?" You said to yourself as a note fluttered down from your locker door. You unfolded it, frowning slightly before reading the neat cursive.

-Meet me in the gym. Now.

You stuffed the note in your pocket and headed for the gym, dreading what you would find in there.

You stopped in front of the double doors, your hand hovering over the handle. You had a bad feeling, a really bad feeling that you wouldn't like what you would find behind those doors. But you couldn't just walk away from it. You had to stop running away and face what was presented to you.

"Okay. I can do it. It's just a door." You whispered before tugging it open.

"Hello, love. Glad you could make it." Crowleys voice echoed in the dark room. You couldn't see anything, and when you stumbled forwards the gym doors slammed shut.

"Crowley?" You stuttered out, fear edging your voice.

"The one and only." He whispered in your ear from behind, his deep tone making your legs weaken slightly. His hands rested on your waist lightly, squeezing softly.

"I have a surprise for you." He whispered before . One by one, the light flickered to life and revealed the gymnasium.

"Oh my god." You whispered under your breath, your eyes going wide and a hand flying up to cover your mouth.

Blood, blood everywhere. All the people who were ever mean to you and people like you were in here, limbs and chunks scattered around. Your chest began to rise and fall rapidly, the smell hitting you like a ton of bricks. Oh my god.

You blinked back tears and looked at the two chairs in the center of the carnage. A brunette girl sat with her arms and legs tied down, a wad of fabric in her mouth and her eyelids closed. You knew those steely grey eyes were hidden behind her eyelids because you had spent years looking into them, searching for pity but finding cold amusement. Jessica Ennis is sat in that chair, and you looked at her with pity, something she never thought you deserved. She was still breathing.

The other chair held Jason, who was gagged and trying hard to scream through the wad of cotton in his mouth. You felt bad for him, knowing that he had stopped picking on you and called his goons off ever since Castiel saved you. His brown eyes looked at you in shock and sadness before staring hatefully at Crowley.

"It takes a while to get used to it, but eventually you learn not to gag at the smell." He said casually, twirling a bloody knife in his hand before walking over to Jessica.

He cut a thin line across her throat, making her cough and gag before he stuck the knife into her chest. You tried really fucking hard not to scream, biting your tongue until it bled. 

Jason tried yelling again, struggling against the ropes as Crowley walked over to him, a scalpel in his hand. 

"Crowley don't!" You yelled, stumbling forward to shield Jason from getting stabbed in the eye.

"And why not? We made a deal, I'm just trying to hold up my end." He said, twirling the scalpel between his fingertips.

"Look, just let him go. Please." You said softly, your whole body trembling in fear.

He sighed deeply before handing you the scalpel.

"Five minutes. If he's not gone by then, he's gonna become another stain on the wall." He said, growling slightly before standing aside. You dropped down and began to cut and untie the ropes, starting with his hands. In less than a minute, Jason was up and trying to hit Crowley.

"Jason no! Just go, now!" You said, shoving him towards the exit. He stumbled and turned around, looking at you with wide eyes.

"(Y/n)... I'm sorry. I-"

"Jason. Save it for all the other people in the school you've hurt. And I'm sorry. Now go!" You yelled, watching as he opened the gym doors and left.

"Touching. Now, for your end of the deal." Crowley whispered from behind, snaking an arm around your waist before everything went dark.

\--------

"Wha?" You said sleepily, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. You were in a dimly lit room, laying on a soft black bed with silky sheets pooling around your body.

"Morning, love." Crowley's deep, accented voice said from the doorway. He was leaning against the door frame, staring at you with a smirk.

"Where am I?" You asked, looking around the dark room.

"Welcome to hell, (Y/n)." He said as he walked over to you.

"Really? But why? Why am I here?" You were trying to wrap your head around the whole 'Hell' concept, questions surfacing one after the other.

"Your deal, of course. You see, running hell isn't easy, especially alone. Terribly lonely. Which is why I wanted you. You're a lot more valuable than you might think, and not as human as you once thought." He explained, walking towards you. He sat at the foot of the bed, staring at you.

"What does that mean exactly?" You asked.

"It means you're not human, not really. Which is why I wanted to find you." He stated, folding his arms over his chest.

"So then what am I?" 

"Heavens most wanted." 

\------------------------  
End of part one.


End file.
